She continued through the space. “I cobbled together all the things I needed in the barn. It had become a garage, a hideout, a vault, a secret layer, a dressing room and a home.”
She reached a pile of books and maps strewn on a table. “I was even starting to build a decent library. Although reading by candlelight wasn’t the best option. I’ll worry about electricity once I own the farm again. Besides I liked playing with fire. “
She lit a candle and looked into the flame. It seemed like a living thing. It felt like company.
“Tonight’s mission was a failure. I didn’t get the banker, but I must figure out a way to burn him.”
The Citadel Bank was a multifaceted financial institution. It had a singular focus, growth through profit. It had a long history that withstood a civil war, a world war, and more than one market crash. It never fully closed its doors during the depression, not to its more affluent clients anyway. They were steps ahead of the public in the nation's economic recovery. They were thriving.
Everything inside the Citadel Bank was gigantic, except the customers. They looked like dolls in a wrong scale house while standing at teller windows. The grand environment looked like a cathedral or the Parthenon. The room had rows of tall pillars, high ceilings, and veiny marble floors. The bank had several departments covering a wide range of services. They could facilitate any monetary necessity, scheme, or investment. It even hosted the Citadel Stock exchange.
Two floors up was the commercial banking department. The description didn't quite cover all of the of the department's activities. It was a place where men of power and great wealth met and divided up the world among them. The second floor was the domain of Carson, the Bank President.
It was business as usual that day as two smartly dressed men in top hats exited the elevator. They were greeted with the bright smile of a platinum blonde receptionist. She was stunning. She took their names and announced their arrival to Carson via intercom. While they waited, the bank guests turned their charm on the lovely young lady.
The first man asked. "Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Jean Harlow?"
She acted shy at the attention and said, "Yes, I’ve heard that before, but thank you."
"Seriously, you could be her twin. It's uncanny. May I ask your name?”
"My name is Jewel.” She said, and gracefully extended her ring-less hand.
He took it and gently kissed it, all the while making eye contact with her. She giggled and said, "Oh my, how sophisticated."
She spoke with a slight southern accent, and everything she said sounded like flirting.
The second man commented under his breath. "Laying it on a little thick aren't you, brother?"
Not willing to be outdone by the second man, he said, "A celestial beauty like yours should be with the stars in Hollywood. You should be on the silver screen, not stuck behind a desk in old Carson's vault."
He chuckled.
She beamed at the compliment. "Well aren't you sweet? What a wonderful thing to say?”
He edged a little closer to her. "You know, with the right sponsor, you might be able to make that happen."
"Really? I've always thought I could be an actress." She said.
He nodded. "It’s something you should think about. Say, did I mention I have a home in California?"
Carson interrupted the discussion. "You’re always trying to take something that doesn't belong to you, aren't you, Moneybags?"
He laughed and greeted the men with a competitive handshake.
The first man shook Carson's hand and said. "She is a dead ringer for Jean Harlow."
Carson smiled and glanced at her. "Yes she is. Yes she is."
He turned back to his friends and added. "But she’s not a very good typist."
The three looked at each other then said in unison, "Who cares?"
As they laughed at their joke, Carson led them to his office. "Come along, gentlemen. Let's talk business."
His eyes met Jewel's. He smiled and gave her a confident wink. Jewel waved back with a bright smile. She looked expensive. She added an air of glamour to the decor. She was a prize and he wanted her. He would have shit himself if he knew she was really Betty.
Thanks to Alfonzo Beznik's makeup magic, Betty was able to infiltrate Carson's inner sanctum undetected, three weeks ago. She heard there was a high employee turnover rate on Carson's floor. There always seemed to be an opening. It took her three interviews in three different disguises to figure out what they were looking for. She didn't know that Carson had a thing for Jean Harlow at the time, but, then again, most men did.
She wasn't great at the job. To avoid suspicion she acted dumb, dressed to get attention and flirted with any man who was receptive. It worked on all the guys and they covered for her, but the other girls in the bank hated the character she portrayed. Carson was aware of the tension and was amused by it. He thrived on conflict. Carson wanted to get closer to Jewel, and Betty let him.
They often ate dinner together in the finest restaurants in the Citadel. She played the part of an innocent girl new to the big city. She acted shy and clung to every word Carson said. She got caught up in the role at times and was able to give the man she hated passionate kisses that said she never wanted to let him go. She claimed she had feelings for him, but she was very religious and saving herself for marriage. She said she was confused about her desires and turned to Carson for comfort. Betty knew precisely how to play him.
To him, she was irresistible. He wanted to corrupt this innocent southern belle. He wanted to crack her thighs open and beat her future husband to her virtue more than anything else in the world. What a prize she was, not too bright, but so damn beautiful, so delicate. He didn't want to press her too hard. He didn’t want to scare her away. Besides, he knew it would be an even greater victory if she lay before him of her own free will.
He said he would take care of her and tempted her with sparkling trinkets. He promised her financial stability. He swore to leave his wife, if Jewel would just say yes. Betty remembered enough about Carson not to tell him no. Instead she used words like; maybe, not yet, or I don't know what to do. Sometimes she'd just cry. He was drawn deeper into the challenge.
He had to have her, but he had to be patient with a girl like her. Even though it was killing him. He knew she would give in at some point, and then he would soil her, because he never lost.
Carson was so nice to Jewel, but Betty knew he would only act this way until he got what he wanted. Betty played along. She liked to see him squirm as much as she enjoyed wrapping him around her finger with the rest of the jewelry he gave her. It was a fun game, but toying with him was only part of her mission. She never forgot that he was a monster and needed to be destroyed.
Some nights she would stay at the bank after hours and hide until everyone was gone. Then she wandered the building alone. On those nights she learned about the world of business, by exploring the dark underside of the Citadel bank. At night the institution was vulnerable without the infusion of men’s greed to protect it. Betty hoped her covert investigation would expose Carson’s business secrets. There had to be evidence of his crimes hidden somewhere in the bank, and she was going to find it.
There were thousands of documents filed under a myriad of categories and subcategories stored all over the building. Her early explorations were more like reconnaissance missions. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for. She didn’t expect to find a file folder with the word “Crimes” stamped on it, but she assumed she would be able to detect something incriminating if she stumbled on to it. Instead she found mounds of papers that made no sense. The more she read the more frustrated she became. She didn't understand the contractual language of financial-ese. She came to realize that she couldn't follow a paper trail to a crime if she didn't know where to start. She needed to consult an expert.